


White

by Yuki_Frill



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Character Study, Cognitive Dissonance, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Identity Issues, One-Sided Attraction, Or Is It?, Physical Disability, Pining, Platonic Romance, all the illustrations inside are made by me, diving deep into Pieck's offscreen struggles, set before post-timeskip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-12-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:40:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27177344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yuki_Frill/pseuds/Yuki_Frill
Summary: As a child, Pieck dreamed of white.Pieck did not grow up spending nights thinking she would one day get ahold of a Titan and fight in a war. Pieck did not grow up picturing herself standing in the middle of the battlefield, at the center of it all—a bloody history.Written for #SNKTOBER2020 Day 25 Prompt: Dream
Relationships: Pieck Finger & Porco Galliard, Pieck Finger/Porco Galliard
Comments: 62
Kudos: 288
Collections: SNKTOBER Month 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pieck and the evolution of her dreams.

As a child, Pieck dreamed of white. 

Unlike her Warrior peers, Pieck did not start out of a grand beginning. No desire to embrace the Marleyan propaganda. No family egging her on. 

Her family was poor and scraping for the bare minimum, but her parents were the best thing. They were loving, understanding; just what she believed all parents should be. Just what she believed she would one day grow up to be. Find the right man, one like her kind Father, be the best wife to him, and repeat the cycle.

Pieck did not grow up spending nights thinking she would one day get ahold of a Titan and fight in a war. Pieck did not grow up picturing herself standing in the middle of the battlefield, at the center of it all—a bloody history. Contributing to the world's millennia-old resentment against her own race.

As a child, Pieck dreamed of white. White dress, white blooms, white cake—if they managed to get one through connection. It didn't matter. As long as her parents were by her side.

When Pieck was four, her Mother left the world, having overworked herself to death during one of their worst winter famines. Leaving her Father to take on more work, too financially struggling to even be given the luxury to grieve. Pieck's dream morphed from marrying the man she loved to marrying a man who could improve her family's welfare. It would be a challenge, as Eldians were mostly struggling and never getting enough. She feared that finding a partner would only mean more mouth to feed and more work to take on. 

Eventually, her Father fell sick, too. It wasn't instant like what consumed her Mother. She could still help him. But she was seven. Too young to be hired for a rewarding job, no matter how smart they said she was. 

Seven. Far too young to hope for marriage to save her and her Father.

But... seven. Just old enough to register into the Warrior Program. Another way she would be given a chance to save her Father. And fast.

Since day one of training, Pieck had been perpetually dressed in white, never to tear the color off her skin. For it was the proof of her undying loyalty to the Motherland. The proof of her desire for a better life.

It was not the white of her dreams, but it would have to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I initially planned for this to be a oneshot but it dragged on for too long so thanks to a friend's suggestion, I decided to split it into three parts! I hope it's easier to read that way, too :D


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> General Magath invites the Warriors to a Marleyan wedding.

It came as a surprise to everyone in the room. When General Magath wrapped up the meeting and the Warriors were just about to get up and leave. Just as Porco, standing right beside Pieck's seat, offered a hand to assist her, the General ordered them to stay before saying, "My niece is getting married in two weeks."

Zeke and Reiner had been quick to throw their loud congratulations, flashing their salute with backs so straight Pieck worried their spines might snap. 

Porco held his back, if only because he witnessed the look on his partner's face when she heard the news. Pieck had been wearing her usual lazy smile throughout the meeting, only from time to time changing expressions to neutral when she talked about more pressing matters. But now he could see her normally empty eyes light up slowly.

"That's so nice," she commented, facing the General as her hands grabbed Porco's to help herself stand, staggering a little when she did. Her mind still too hazy to start consciously working on breaking out of the autopilot. It's been four months, after all.

 _Right foot, left foot, right foot, left foot, Pieck. Not hands, feet, hands, feet anymore,_ she reminded herself. When she managed to stand straight, she flashed her own salute, followed by Porco, as they both said their congratulations.

The General nodded once.

As the General proceeded to give them the exact date, location, and dress code, Porco handed Pieck her crutch, not before helping her place it where it should be. She smiled and whispered a thanks, to which he only responded with a nod.

"Pieck," the General called.

Pieck slowly focused on him. "Yes, sir?"

"Keep in mind to not show up in white," he reminded. Pieck was initially confused, as she had been required to wear white for any military-related occasions. After all, being invited by your military superior should count, right?

"Wouldn't want you to steal the bride's thunder."

 _Ah, so that's why_.

"It wouldn't be an exaggeration to say the punishment would be as severe as letting one of the kids eat you ahead of schedule."

Pieck chuckled lowly at the sick joke. "Understood, sir," she sung.

Years ago she would've honestly feared for her life and family welfare, but these days she could read the General like a book. He would never admit it, but Pieck knew how much he genuinely cared for them. He was already like a second Father to her.

Once they were dismissed, the Warriors stayed together for a bit to discuss the upcoming event. Reiner was especially worried, it being his first time being invited to a Marleyan wedding, afraid he would do something that would strip away his honorary position. He even considered faking an illness to be allowed raincheck, only to remember a shifter could basically heal a cancer in their body within minutes.

"I survived being punished for a mission failure," he lamented, rubbing his temple. They knew he was referring to the Founding Titan Retrieval Mission from three years ago. He had to go through a lot to regain Marley's favor, indeed. "It wouldn't be funny to be killed because of _one_ wrong step at a wedding. Like, picking up the wrong fork at the wrong time."

"That's where you're wrong, Braun," Porco interjected, already grinning. "It _would_ be funny."

Normally, Pieck would take Reiner's side when Porco made a malicious joke about him, but even Pieck realized that the blond was being comical with his anxiety today, so she decided to back her partner up and snickered at his joke, shaking her head. Earning her support had undoubtedly inflated his ego, as he offered her a fist bump that she returned softly with a smile.

Zeke didn't laugh, but he also wore a half grin. "Come on, now," he tried. After all, he was supposed to be their Chief.

* * *

Porco and Pieck arrived to their go-to steakhouse. They had invited Zeke and Reiner along as well, however Zeke had a clearly more important appointment with his beloved successor.

"They're just playing catch, I don't know why that can't wait," Porco had whined.

"That's how they bond," Pieck had explained. She was actually jealous. They didn't get to bond with their predecessor back then. The first and last time they saw them was when they were about to gnaw on their flesh and drink up their spinal fluid. 

Reiner also already made a dinner plan with his family and Gabi would throw a tantrum if she didn't see her favorite cousin at the dining table so he excused himself, too.

That left Porco, whose parents weren't expecting him home, and Pieck, whose Father was still staying at the hospital for the week. It was fine, as it wasn't their first time dining out with just the two of them anyway.

The steakhouse was located just outside the internment zone and thus, most Eldians went on their entire life never knowing how the meals here taste like. Some Eldians living near the gate would have to be succumbed in the torture that was the fragrant aroma of premium meat coming out of here all day while only being allowed to imagine the taste. It was worse than it sounded, especially during winter famine that led to starvation within the zone. The smell had literally driven some Eldians in poverty insane.

The place wasn't as crowded as it usually would be, but still, full of Marleyan soldiers and civilians alike. Some of them would spare the two a look because of their armband, but most of the patrons and staff had known them. The owner slash chef had rushed out of the kitchen to personally welcome them back from the war and into his steakhouse with a big warm hug, thanking them for fighting for the country and promising them bigger piece of meat in their order.

"Something's weighing on your mind," Porco noted as soon as they sat down by the counter. After he helped her place her crutch between their seats, leaning against the counter, and ordered for them.

Pieck slowly faced him. "Hm?" she asked.

"You don't look too excited."

"For the steak? The wedding?" Porco nodded. "No... I _am_ excited and happy for the General." 

When Pieck didn't seem like she was going to elaborate, Porco raised a brow and nodded at her to continue.

"Well," she started, patting her crutch, hoping he would get the hint. "I don't think I can be out of the crutch by the time of the wedding, that's all."

Nodding, Porco agreed, "Yeah, I mean, the mission did go on for long this time."

Pieck nodded slowly.

Porco remembered she took weeks to readjust to walking on two feet after their last deployment that lasted two months. It was four months this time, which meant longer readjustment. And it wasn't just about walking; her readjustment process was more complex than that. Yet not many people understood that. The next time they needed her for a mission, there she was, shoved again inside her Titan for however long it was needed, regardless of whether she had recovered from her previous transformation.

It hadn't bothered her for the longest time. After all, it had been ten years of the same inhumane treatment. The first and last time he caught her upset about her condition was after her first long mission, where she came out of her Titan riddled with dissociation issues and confusion. He had never admitted this to her, but he had seen her in her room back then, slumped on the floor after what he assumed to be an autodidact walking exercise, hitting her legs and sobbing.

Porco pushed aside that image from his memories. It was upsetting for him, too, when he witnessed who he thought was the person with the strongest mental fortitude among his acquaintances, fell apart. Pieck was not like him. She doesn't get upset. She always knows what to do in every dire situation without letting it get to her. That's why they work so well together, wasn't it?

"But who cares?" Porco said nonchalantly and Pieck's head perked up. "Just show up on a crutch."

Pieck exaggerated a sigh. "Oh, Pocko, you will never understand a woman's heart."

He wasn't feeling like giving her the good old, _"Don't call me that,"_ counterattack that would only further serve the purpose of her satisfaction so he went with, "What woman? Where?"

Before a mildly amused Pieck could retaliate, their orders arrived. Porco forfeited the verbal competition—where he was definitely winning—in favor of scrupulously cutting the piece of meat in front of him with care. Pieck patiently watched him with half-lidded eyes until he was done.

"Thanks, Pocko," she said when he switched their plates and now began cutting the meat that was previously in front of her, humming in acknowledgement. 

Pieck slowly picked up her fork, although she could feel slight tremor in her grip. Focusing her eyes on the perfectly-cut block of meat she meant to stab, she slowly aimed the fork but soon felt a push on her hand and she was already stabbing the meat. She raised her head and saw Porco already munching on his steak, frowning at her. It took her a few seconds to realize that he was helping her.

"Thanks, Pocko," she said again for the second time that evening. "What would I do without you?" she said, pushing the piece of meat into her mouth and savoring its taste. It's probably her first real meal in so long. She had not emerged from her Titan once in the last four months and therefore had not eaten anything.

With mouth still half full, Porco said, "Probably still _not_ starting your meal until closing hours, I don't know."

Munching on her own food, reminding herself that it was beef and not humans, Pieck hummed in agreement.

* * *

After their hearty meal, Porco offered to walk Pieck home, to which she gratefully accepted. Pieck's home was located not too far from the gate, which meant a short trip. Still, the journey was considerably and understandably dragged on because of Pieck's condition. Porco didn't mind it, though, he enjoyed having more time to hang out with her.

"Thank you for walking with me, Pocko," she said once they arrived by her front door. "You didn't have to but you did."

Her home was tiny. She never moved from her childhood home even after becoming one of the Warriors, from what he could remember. Although she did spend funds to renovate the house just so there were no longer holes in the walls and roofs. Better plumbing work and water pipes that wouldn't freeze in the winter. 

Porco pushed his fists inside the pockets of his jacket. "It's not like I have nothing to gain out of it."

"Because you missed talking to me, right?" Pieck joked, smirking. 

He shrugged. "Maybe."

"I'm surprised," she said. She really was. "Not even a denial?"

"Hey, you were gone for four months."

"I was there, though."

Porco shook his head slowly, and Pieck needed no further explanation. 

They stood there for a while, Porco still not showing any sign of leaving and Pieck still sorting out her thoughts. It took time to do the simplest thinking after she spent too much time inside her Titan. Some lines seemed blurred out and she couldn't tell where one thought ended and the other began. She only began regaining grasp of reality again when she noticed how red Pocko's button nose was. It was cold tonight in the peak of autumn. 

She spoke up first, rustling for her keys in her jacket, "Good night, Pocko."

"Wait."

"Hm?"

Porco appeared conflicted for a moment before hardening his resolve to ask, "Do you think you'll readjust faster if... you know, you had help?"

"What kind of help?"

"Like, would it help if someone holds your hands and let you focus on your feet? Have you," he cleared his throat. "Have you ever tried that?"

"Well, no... my Father's not exactly the strongest man alive. I wouldn't want to accidentally fall on him and break his bones."

Porco didn't laugh at her joke and frowned. His heart broke when he pictured Pieck struggling to walk on her own. "But you weight like, nothing."

"A hundred pounds are not exactly _nothing._ " Pieck chuckled.

She _was_ lighter than most of the military personnel. Lighter than most of people in general, even. The only people weighing less than her would be the kids. Although lately she's beginning to doubt that as well because the last time Zofia jumped on her she nearly tumbled backward. They were growing up so fast.

"Have you even been eating?" Porco asked.

Amused, Pieck raised a brow. "Did you really just ask that?"

The full realization had only dawned on him as Porco frowned even deeper, groaning and sighing and Pieck began to have troubles decoding his reaction. 

"I thought being in a Titan means no more worldly needs."

"That's true. But I still lose weight, I guess? Although not as rapidly compared to not eating as a human being," she said, then grabbed a bunch of her long hair. "My hair still grows inside the Titan, too."

He did note that her hair looked much longer compared to before their mission. He never noticed before because those were shorter missions, but this time it went on for so long that when she emerged from the Cart Titan, he felt like she grew older in there.

"What if I help you with, you know, practicing walking? Since we're not expected to be deployed anytime soon, I don't think."

Pieck pictured Porco coming over to her house to help her practice. They could have tea and maybe get one of Barney's burgers. She hadn't had those in a while. She already missed the melty cheese and buttery patty and buns softer than the clouds. And they would be able to have longer conversations than the ones they had at diners or meetings.

"That sounds nice," Pieck mumbled. A warm smile on her face. "Yeah, I'd like that."

Porco nodded, feigning nonchalance. "Well then, wouldn't want to keep you standing out here all night. We'll talk about the details next time, alright?"

Although Pieck noticed how red his face was and began to wonder if it was really that cold. Poor little Pocko, she should send him home. "Okay. Good night, Pocko. See you tomorrow."

"See you tomorrow, Pieck."

Porco lingered for a moment longer, staring at the door Pieck disappeared into. And Pieck was none the wiser.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I remember how, in one of the chapters, Porco was standing right beside Pieck's chair when she's the only one sitting in the meeting room. I thought it was the sweetest thing :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Porco helps Pieck with her practice until the wedding. Shenanigans ensue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My friends and I have been joking around about how Pieck and Porco just keep eating in this fic lol

The Warriors' lives had been relatively uneventful after their last mission. Any country that could strike them in the near future had been heavily impaired during the last attack, which meant they would have enough leisure time to rest and catch up with family and friends until the next call of duty.

Porco had never been extremely close to his parents like Marcel was, even though they had a decent relationship. Still, he preferred spending his time outside or hanging out with Pieck. Her Father would still be hospitalized until the end of the week so that meant she would be alone at home until then. They had unanimously agreed that the physical therapy taking place at her residence would be preferred.

Sometime near noon, Porco stood before the Finger residence, a paper bag in hand, as he waited for Pieck to open the door for him. It took her quite some time before he could hear rushed footsteps (in Pieck's standard) and what sounded like struggles and soft cursing when she failed to unlock the door multiple times.

Porco knew it was supposed to be heartbreaking given the circumstances of which it was caused by, but sometimes he thought her clumsiness was adorable.

"Hi!" she greeted him once the door _finally_ opened, smiling nervously. "Sorry, I grabbed the wrong set of keys."

Porco couldn't be bothered with her excuse, because his attention was on the clumsily put-together towel that was supposed to wrap her freshly-washed hair, but was doing a terrible job at it. There were little wet spots on her shirt and she smelled heavily of soap like she had _just_ stepped out of bath. At twelve.

"Did I arrive too early?" he asked sarcastically.

"No!" she was quick to deny, failing to catch his sarcasm. "It was me. I woke up late so I didn't have enough time to... what's that? Is that Barney's?" And even got distracted halfway.

He decided not to press her further. "The one and only," he said, jiggling the paper bag.

Watching Pieck's face normally sluggish expression light up must be by far one of Porco's favorite activities. Her typically empty eyes sparkled ever so slightly at the confirmation. He always thought her smiley eyes were pretty even when they looked desperately in need of sleep.

"Hold on, you rushed a bath?" Porco belatedly realized. "You could've injured yourself."

Surprising no one, Pieck shared none of his concerns. "What's the worse that could happen? I'll just be covered in steam and then _poof_!" She made a little exploding gesture with her hand even thought their regeneration looked nothing like that. "...Be good as new. I survived a war, I won't die from slipping in the bathroom."

"You'd be surprised," Porco mumbled bitterly.

Upon closer inspection, though, Porco realized that Pieck's crutch was nowhere to be found. And by the amount of water on the floor and the wet patch on her skirt where her knees should be, he had arrived to a conclusion that she had completely abandoned the piece of wood in favor of crawling to the entrance when he had knocked the door because it was the faster option for her.

When Porco made his way into the home, Pieck closed the door behind him and leaned against the wall as she followed suit, propping most of her weight against the walls. Seeing this, Porco wordlessly grabbed one of her arms and assisted her as they walked to the living room area that wasn't far from the entrance.

Pieck smiled up at him, "Thanks, Pocko." And plopped down on one of the loveseats, huffing like she had just finished with a mini exercise. The towel came undone and fell to the floor to be ignored. Porco would have to grab that and throw it into the laundry pile later.

If she was already drained out after walking in her own house, how would she hope to toss away the crutch within two weeks?

"Do you want something to drink?" Pieck asked, but she was already melting into her seat. Her body language screamed volume of how unwilling she was to remove herself from the comfort.

"I'll make us some tea." He decided to take over since it was clear she wouldn't be leaving her seat anytime soon. "You still have teabags?"

"I think so," she nonchalantly answered. "On the top counter. Thanks, Pocko, you're the best."

Hell yeah he was.

Porco navigated his ways into the kitchen, found the top counter that held the teabags, then proceeded to prepare their tea no problem.

The last time Porco visited this house and not just dropping off Pieck by the front door, was when they were much, much younger. Back then, they were still Warrior candidates and the house he was in now bore nearly no resemblance to the one he remembered. Pieck really had dedicated so much to improve her family after being chosen and it was evident from where he was standing right now. To many, Pieck might seem lazy. Her Titan's contribution might seem miniscule compared to the other Warriors. But Porco knew firsthand how hard she worked behind the scene. How, so many scenarios would have played out differently without her wit and strong judgment. From what Porco had heard, Zeke and Reiner would have been dead in the hands of the island devils during the Paradis mission three years ago if not for the Cart Titan's bold measure in the nick of time.

Porco watched Pieck take a light nap where she was seated even though she claimed to have just woken up not an hour ago. Yes, to many, she might seem nonchalant and uncaring. But Porco prided himself as one of the few who understood how much she deserved this rest.

The kettle's whistle woke him up from his daydream. He prepared the tea and brought it to the living room area where Pieck was already sluggishly stretching her body, groaning softly.

"Thanks, Pocko," she said, smiling. She said those words so much that he always felt weird about responding anymore so he only nodded.

Porco rustled through the paper bag and grabbed one burger, opened the wrapping, then handed it to Pieck who hummed appreciatively. Then he took the second one and did the same for himself.

They loved Barney's burgers. Back when the four other Warriors were away for the Paradis Island operation, the two of them and Zeke would often drop by to get these burgers. Even back then when he was not one of the Warriors, Pieck would always try to include him. Perhaps she took pity on him. Perhaps she genuinely enjoyed his company. Nobody but Pieck could tell.

When they were children, they weren't close. And Porco had a tunnel vision towards his goal of being chosen that he paid no attention to the other kids. Besides Reiner. He took his time bullying that pipsqueak in their youth. But during those five years, he had grown to appreciate her friendship more than he would have expected. To be honest, her friendship and company might be the reason he could even heal from everything that happened.

This time, he wanted to do the same for her.

"Shall we start?" Porco said, as he crumpled the paper in his hand and wiped some sauce onto it before tossing it back into the paper bag. Pieck did the same. 

"Mm-hm."

It didn't go great, if Porco wanted to be honest. He had a whole plan in mind, even though he didn't let her know in fear that it might add unnecessary pressure to her. He knew Pieck; she worked well under pressure until she didn't. And if there was one thing that she couldn't handle pressure on, it was her post-transformation healing process. They had only managed to spend barely one full hour for practice before Pieck slumped on the floor, too exhausted to move. Her stubbornness and unwillingness to budge rivalled even the strongest enemy fortress. Which their Titans still took down, mind you.

They spent the next hour letting Pieck rest as they engaged in a light conversation about the current political weather of the world. Well, as light as any political discussion could be. Once they reached a point where it became too stressful, Pieck came up with a less depressing activity, which was asking him to help her pick a dress for the wedding. 

Porco made himself comfortable on the ottoman stool in Pieck's room, kicking his legs in the air onto the smaller stool right in front of it, pushing it further as the distance was initially made to match the much smaller Pieck's height. On another part of the room, Pieck flung her closet door open and produced two dresses; both made out of light and silky material. Although he doubt they were real silk. They might be more privileged than the average Eldians, but silk still cost a fortune. A fortune that Porco believe Pieck would rather spend on something more essential. There was no telling she would ever get to wear those dresses in her life if this rare opportunity didn't present itself, after all.

That was when Pieck informed him that one of the dresses was gifted to her by relatives and the other by her panzer unit. Porco had noted how unprofessional the boys could be with Pieck sometimes. Rather than a superior, they behaved towards her like she was some kind of goddess to worship or even some kind of idol. Pieck thought it was cute, but Porco thought it was a little creepy. Now knowing they had gifted her a dress only served to confirm his discomfort.

"Don't be jealous," Pieck teased, winking at him. "Even if you didn't gift me a dress, you're still my bestest friend."

Porco rolled his eyes to hide the little hint of joy blooming inside, and she giggled.

Porco knew he should be sick of seeing Pieck in white, but his eyes naturally gravitated towards a long white dress in her cabinet. It was less fancier than the ones she was holding, but just looking at it, Porco could already picture Pieck in it. It was modest, much like her. No glitters or little gems adorning it, but still pertaining its elegance with graceful mermaid skirt and a little bit of lace. The General had specifically banned white dresses, but that white dress called out to him.

"Not that one, Pocko," Pieck said, as if she read his mind. Or just followed his eyes. "No white dresses, remember? Or can you not wait for the kids to eat me already?"

Porco narrowed his eyes at yet another one of her distasteful jokes. He could handle a couple of Pieck original, but he wasn't the biggest fan of ones that involved her dying.

Noticing the shift in his mood, Pieck steered the conversation to a less grotesque direction, "Besides, that's my mom's wedding dress."

"Oh." _Oh._

She nodded, continuing as she hurled the two dresses towards her bed, too lazy to walk the short distance, before turning around to feel the white dress with her hand. "She made it herself out of used bedsheets and curtains the neighbors were generous enough to give her. Isn't that amazing? She was such a creative soul."

"Yeah."

"Now, blue or red?" Pieck asked, having dragged her feet to the bed to settle in it.

Red seemed too rowdy for Pieck. "I'd say go with blue." He hoped that wasn't the one from the panzer unit.

Pieck nodded, registering his opinion. "Yeah. This one comes with a semi-translucent shawl, too. Looks classier. Good taste, Pocko." She returned the red one to her closet, talking to it, "Sorry, panzer boys, maybe next time."

 _Yes!_ Porco internally pumped his fist.

* * *

They kept up the schedule for a few days, and every time Porco arrived, he would be bringing different snacks that he would put on hold until Pieck managed to walk as many steps as that day's goal. Many a times, Porco nearly gave in when she would slump on the floor and look up at him like the most miserable puppy, but he was thankful his parents raised no pushover. Putting his foot down, he would not let Pieck have a taste of the snack (maybe he snuck in a few crumbs, but just to motivate her!) until she showed results. He was _not_ a pushover. He was a military man. He was a Warrior!

"Right, left, right, left. You're doing great." Porco made sure to compliment her. If there was anything he learned from working with her over the years, it was that she worked well under positive reinforcement.

It was their fourth day and although he couldn't be a hundred percent certain, he could have sworn that she hadn't been able to walk this much without her crutch within a couple of weeks after their last deployment. He remembered still seeing her crawl to the meeting room two weeks after the deployment from earlier this year.

Pieck forced a smile when she looked up at him. He could see sweat forming on her forehead and trailing down between her eyes where some strands of stray hair were sticking onto. Her hands in his grip were trembling as he worked on holding her weight whenever she needed. It wasn't much, though. Like he said, she weighted nothing.

"You improved much faster than last time, right?" he asked during their break, watching Pieck slowly nibble on the sandwich he had brought from home because his Mother insisted upon knowing he had been visiting Pieck.

Pieck nodded and swallowed. "I don't know why I never thought of doing this before."

"That's why you need me," Porco bragged, half-jokingly. "I'm your voice of reason."

"I know," she agreed, not missing a beat. "I don't think I'd improve as fast if it was someone else."

Her straightforwardness caught him off-guard. He could've bet his ears were red now. Clearing his throat, he dared himself to ask, "What do you mean?"

Pieck looked at nowhere in particular as she mumbled as if to herself, "I could relax and focus on my feet because I entrusted my hands to you. You won't let me fall or let me go." She slowly looked up to peer at him and smiled and he subconsciously swallowed the lump forming in his throat, all of a sudden flustered. "Just like on the battlefield, right?" she finished.

 _Of course!_ Porco forgot how he usually spoke but he hoped he wasn't speaking three octaves higher. "Yeah! Yeah, no, of course. Yeah," he agreed much too enthusiastically he's so sure she would notice something weird right about now. "Just like on the battlefield."

Pieck didn't pick up on his strange reaction, if only because of the newcomer leisurely entering the living room.

"Dad, you're back." Pieck wanted to get up and run to her Dad and give him a hug but her legs were sore after all that practice so she resorted to stretching both arms towards him like a toddler would. He chuckled before bending over to hug her.

That snapped Porco out of his random panic and made sure Pieck and him weren't sitting inappropriately close. No, there was still one meter between them. It's okay.

What was he _doing?_ He was a Warrior! He fought in a war! He tore apart enemy rail tracks like it was beef jerky! He rendered the enemy fire useless with a swing of his claws! What was he doing blushing because of a girl like some prepubescent teen? A girl who was supposed to be his partner in the field, to boot! 

"Mr. Finger, how are you?" Porco greeted, offering a handshake that the older man took with a friendly smile, after springing up into standing position.

Porco had never had the chance to meet Pieck's Mother, but from what he could see, she had gotten everything from her Father like a carbon copy of him.

"Fine, fine. I'm fine," he said, chuckling and patting Porco's hand a couple times before releasing the handshake. "Am I interrupting you two?" he asked.

"Not at all!" Porco squeaked.

"We were just snacking," Pieck elaborated, picking up her half-eaten sandwich. "Do you want some?" she offered, and Porco had no idea if he thought it was sweet or just plain inconsiderate. He settled with the former. Who was he to judge how the Fingers show affection?

Mr. Finger politely declined and insisted his daughter finish her own sandwich as he made his way to the kitchen to make himself some tea. Feeling the need to help out, Porco sent himself to the kitchen, leaving Pieck to continue nibbling on her sandwich on the floor. She didn't question where he was going, seemingly lost in thoughts again.

"I thought you, ah, _Warriors_ ," he nodded as he remembered, "You are not allowed to be... ah, romantically-involved with each other."

If Porco was eating or drinking anything, he would have choked and coughed his lungs out. For now, he settled with baseball eyes and goldfish mouth, followed by incoherent sputtering. "W-we're not!" he caught himself amidst the panic, eyes briefly wandering to Pieck on the floor to see if she was listening. For the better or worse, she showed no signs of coming out of her trance anytime soon. "We are not _involved_ , sir. I swear in the name of Marley."

Mr. Finger chuckled. "I used to be shy when I was young, too. When you grow older, you realize there is no use to being shy around pursuing what you love."

Pieck's hopeful Father could not be more wrong. He couldn't be more wrong, but he was also not. Porco remembered how, as a boy, he thought Pieck was adorable. Nobody could blame him. He hadn't been hanging out with a lot of girls his age and she was always so nice. He remembered, and every time he did he would cringe, how he once picked a flower he saw in the training ground that reminded him of her. How he thought it would make her happy if he gave it to her and spoke his thoughts.

_They remind me of you._

But true to his dishonest nature, he never went through with it. Flowers disposed and trampled on as he realized how stupid he was about to look. He didn't know when he'd stopped trying to get her attention, but it didn't last long in the first place. He had too many things in his mind. Maybe life happened and there was no more time for something as silly as a little crush on a girl.

"Oh, no, really!" Porco denied, having returned to the present where he really was just her work partner and not a little boy smitten with her. "I'm just here to help Pieck with the walking practice. She looked a bit upset when she thought she had to show up at the wedding on a crutch, so I offered to help... Yeah..."

That seemed to be news to Mr. Finger. "Whose wedding?" he asked, his hands stopping.

"The General's niece's wedding in a week. Did... Pieck not tell you?"

"No. Not at all."

Porco wondered if he was prying where he shouldn't. If Pieck didn't tell her Father, it would be for a reason. He hoped it wasn't big enough for her to be upset at him. Not that she ever.

* * *

Pieck had no idea what she was doing. She knew that she was physically munching on a sandwich that Porco had mentioned was made by his Mother. She had had Mrs. Galliard's sandwiches before, especially in their trainee days when she would make her boys bring more portion to share with their teammates in an attempt to build rapport.

But mentally? She was in the battlefield. Inside her Titan. Quiet and unmoving and controlling the Cart's movements with her mind like she was trapped in an endless dream. A dream so persistent it wouldn't remove itself from her reality. Clutching onto her consciousness like a resolute parasite. Sometimes it was impossible to tell which one the dream was.

She tore another piece of the sandwich and munched. Munched and munched and hoped she would taste what she was supposed to taste. Not just for what it was— _ham and cheese and light mayo_ —but for its association— _her childhood._

 _Oh, no,_ she thought, squeezing her eyes shut and tried sitting straighter. _I'm dissociating again._

Then she heard a sniffle. Then two. Then the sound of Porco panicking in the background.

"Shit," she heard him curse under his breath. That was when she finally turned around to see what the commotion was all about.

Pieck had no idea what to feel when she saw her Father's small back tremble but she knew whatever it was, it wasn't her panicking partner's fault. 

Never being good at handling such strong display of emotion, Porco contemplated on how to tackle the situation. But before he needed to, Pieck came up to them, providing a distraction effective enough to put a halt on the older man's emotional outburst.

"Is everything okay?" she asked to no one in particular.

The discomfort, for one, was quite apparent. But Porco was also genuinely concerned about what could have caused whatever pain he was witnessing from Mr. Finger.

"I'm not sure but," Porco spoke up first, "I think I messed up." After making sure the older man didn't have his eyes on him, Porco mouthed, _"I mentioned the wedding. Is that bad?"_

Pieck slightly grimaced, and Porco took that as a bad sign. Though, she soon wore her neutral expression again as she took her Father's hands and led him to his room to rest. But not before looking over her shoulder to mouth to him, _"It's okay."_

Their voices were hushed, but Porco could pick up on Mr. Finger's small whimpers, "You have always dreamt of a wedding."

And then Pieck's equally soft, "Not anymore."

While the Fingers were gone, Porco let himself wander around in the living room. He hadn't had much time to take in his surrounding the last few days he was visiting because they were focusing on Pieck's rehabilitation and not house tour. Now, it seemed awkward to stand around or sit comfortably so he rounded the modest-sized living room and took his time to examine the few photos displayed on a drawer. He had seen some of them during his visits but hadn't had the time to look at the back row. Now he was finally standing close enough to see them.

The ones on the front row were of Pieck and her Father taken after she had been chosen. Both of them proudly showing off their red armbands. That was before Mr. Finger learned of Pieck's term.

There were several others but none of Mrs. Finger as they claimed to be too poor to afford getting pictures taken back then. Not even their wedding was commemorated in the form of photos, it was all just in memories.

One of the photos in the back was of all of them back then as candidates. He didn't remember when this picture was taken exactly, but they all looked so young. How young were they when they had registered? 

Hold on...

"Pieck was taller than me?" Porco subconsciously mumbled, taking the frame in hand to examine it closer. They weren't standing side-by-side so it wasn't obvious, but he could see that she was even slightly taller than Marcel, which would mean she's definitely taller than him.

Porco didn't remember that being a thing.

But come to think of it, she was always the older sister of the group. Sure, she wasn't very reliable when it came to her physical strength, but she was always there to provide emotional support. Even back then when he was...

Pieck was back out soon after, poking him in the back when she realized he hadn't noticed her. Her finger had only reached his lower back, reminding him of how much smaller she was compared to him now.

"I'm sorry about my Dad," she told him once he returned the photo back to its place and turned around to face her. "He gets... like that whenever there's a wedding around here. That's why I sort of kept it from him."

"No, that's..." Porco trailed off, mind wandering back to what Mr. Finger had said when he went away. "That's fine. I can see why he'd be emotional."

Pieck hummed. "I guess I'll see you tomorrow at the same time?" she offered him the chance to escape the lingering awkwardness.

"Yeah." Porco gratefully took it. "See you tomorrow."

Porco couldn't sleep that night. All he could think about was the end of Pieck's term, approaching fast. Before he knew it, one of the children would become the next Cart Titan. Before he knew it, she would be gone. He wouldn't be able to talk to her, or eat out with her, or fight alongside her in the battlefield. It would be somebody else in her place. 

And Pieck... she would leave the world without ever seeing her childhood dream realized.

What kind of partner would he be if he couldn't even help her with a childhood dream so mundane it should've been every person's right?

* * *

Pieck improved significantly over the next week that at some point Porco suggested she started practicing walking on heels as they might just be able to make it. Pieck was torn between her unwillingness to succumb herself into more torture and her desire to appear decent at a party for the first time in... she could not remember how long. Possibly for the last time in her life, too. Who could tell when she would be invited to such a party, allowed to discard her uniform, and all when she was able to walk on two feet? This kind of chance doesn't come twice.

"Alriiight," she had begrudgingly gave in, sighing. "Go, heels," she said half-heartedly, pumping her fist in the air with as much passion as a dying cat.

"You'll thank me later," Porco had said, sounding too much like his mom for his taste.

"Like always," Pieck said with half a smile.

.

.

And like always, she did thank him. For staying by her side at her worst. For pushing her past her limit. For holding her hands and not letting her fall. He was the best partner anyone could ask for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This ends up becoming four chapters because my indecisive ass keeps adding more and more unwanted details ripp
> 
> Anyways, kudos and comments would really help motivate me to finish the next (last) part so pretty pleaase 🥺🙏


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally, the wedding. Porco faces something old while Pieck takes it easy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to my friends, [Nagi](https://www.instagram.com/nagifry/), [Nelle](https://www.instagram.com/v_dnelle/) and [Luna](https://www.instagram.com/lubnathiga/) for helping me power through this fic by complimenting the story and my writing every step of the way. Wouldn't have done this without you guys :")
> 
> Also [Gwen](https://twitter.com/gwenynbright?s=20) for kicking my ass to work, being my PokoPiku fangirl buddy, and leaving a lot of wonderful comments that got me going! Love you, buddy! If you guys haven't checked out her PokoPiku fic, [Enervation](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27385423), you're missing out! It's hands down my FAVORITE PokoPiku fic on this site!

On the day of the wedding, the Warriors had been granted a fancy wagon to transport them to the event. Reiner had been visibly disturbed by the pleasant treatment, raising alertness as if expecting a punchline all throughout the evening. Zeke, having been invited to a Marleyan wedding before, was extremely nonchalant as he navigated through it with ease. It had been Pieck's first time as well, but as usual, she observed and learned fast. Looking exceptionally natural as she let an assistant take her hand and help her climb up into the wagon following Zeke. Porco tried to follow her example if only not to be lumped together with Reiner's country bumpkin awkwardness. Not a chance.

"No offense, but I really thought you'd show up on a crutch tonight, Pieck," Zeke commented at one point during their trip.

Pieck smiled and looked at Porco, who's seated right across her. "Credits go to Pocko," she said.

Zeke raised his eyebrows, seemingly impressed. Reiner also spared a look even though he said nothing. Porco somehow felt embarrassed.

"It's no big deal, guys." Porco downplayed it. "All Pieck needed was the right motivation. Which happened to be burgers."

"Barney's?" Zeke asked and Pieck nodded. "Those are gooood."

As the two continued engaging in a passionate discussion about burgers, Porco huffed in relief knowing that meant they had put a halt from smothering him with unwarranted affection. He was never good at accepting compliments. He loved them, of course, like everybody else. But something about being faced with them while being expected to respond was just so mortifying.

When they arrived, Porco helped Pieck climb off the wagon, to which she thanked him as usual. He had been trying not to fixate on her appearance all through their ride, but now that she stepped out of the wagon bathing in the blinding lights around the venue, she looked simply dazzling.

The dark circles under her eyes had grown less visible over the course of two weeks thanks to the ample amount of sleep she was allowed to get outside of her Titan. She had painted her normally pale pink lips with reddish tint that although made her look a little different, also made her look more alive. Which was a good thing.

Her blue dress, contrasting the glaring red armband around her left arm, exposed an ample amount of her back and collarbone compared to what she wore daily, but the shawl helped balance the look with modesty and elegance. Porco swallowed the lump in his throat he didn't even realize was forming, then let her take his arm as they walked into the venue.

There was an outdoor and indoor part of the venue to fit all of the guests. The reception itself was modest, but there were quite a number of guests. Either the General had a big family or his niece was a prima donna who's friends with everyone and their Mother. 

Once the four Warriors made their way into the indoor venue, they were immediately greeted by the General thanking them for making it here. But soon he was expected to entertain a new guest every minute and the Warriors were left on their own accord. The three younger ones subtly made sure they were watching and learning how Zeke navigated through it all. Their Warchief had given them some pointers before over the course of two weeks, but once it came down to it, all those pointers were seemingly lost in the ocean of anxiety and trepidation accumulated through years of unfair treatment. Reiner was especially tense, even though one might not be able to tell at first glance. His body was rigid and his expression hardened. When he tried to smile at the guests, it came out as an agonizing grimace. Porco hated the guy, but even he could feel some sympathy for him at this point.

Pieck, on the other hand, while still retaining that ever-present caution as to not give anyone a reason to stare, managed to once again embrace and process all that she had watched to recycle and make them her own. Before he knew it, she was already standing by Zeke's side like it was the most natural thing in the world, and easing into the conversation he had with a Marleyan officer and his wife.

From Porco's point of view, his two fellow Warriors were looking much like husband and wife themselves with Pieck's hand around Zeke's arm and the way they were comfortable around each other thanks to years of partnership.

Years of partnership that Porco wasn't a part of, back when he hadn't inherited his Titan and fought alongside them. Before he was assigned as Pieck's new partner and Reiner, Zeke's.

Shaking off the beginning of jealousy before it took over, Porco decided to greet a couple of Marleyan officers he knew, then went off on his own to the buffet corner, leaving the nervous wreck that was Reiner to fend for himself.

"Your plate needs more colors, Pocko." Pieck came approaching from behind sometime later. He had known it was her because of the clicking of her heels. Over the years, he had recognized her footsteps.

Porco didn't turn to look at her, focusing his attention on the food. "Piss off." He sounded like a rebellious teenager. But let's face it, had he grown out of that phase?

Pieck shrugged, humming noncommittally now that she was standing beside him. "Don't come to me when you can't poop."

To mask his snort over her adorable choice of word, Porco huffed. "First of all, I _never_ came to you in cases of indigestion. And second of all, I don't get indigestion."

"You're lucky you're a Warrior," Pieck lectured. "If not, with your diet, you'd be suffering from a lot of health complications at this young age." He knew she wasn't the type to get into other people's business so this was probably just her way of having fun.

She must have been bored already.

"Lucky me," Porco mumbled without meaning it, already digging for more of the best parts of the meat. The party might be modest, but they served premium quality food and Porco, pun fully intended, felt like a pig.

Taking the hint that her _well-meaning nagging_ had fallen upon deaf ears, Pieck let out a soft sigh and grabbed a plate of her own after adjusting her shawl and pushing it out of the way. Afraid some random meat juice would get on it.

"Hold your horses," Porco said, holding his palm up. Pieck looked up at him, questioning with her eyes. "Go find us a seat. I'll handle your plate."

Pieck promptly raised a brow. "You don't know what I want."

"Oh, but I do. Basically just tons of greens, some red meat, and no seafood. Unless they have oysters."

It was spot on. "Hm. Alrighty."

When Porco was finished with his task, he went around the seating area to spot his companion. She was pretty small, so spotting her was quite a challenge, but then she saw her stand from her seat and waved at him. That was when he realized she was surrounded by a number of... wait, those were the panzer boys.

"Look who I found," Pieck said as soon as he reached her and handed her one of the plates.

"The panzer unit," Porco finished for her, half-smiling on the outside and stress-weight-lifting on the inside. You know, like stress-eating, except more productive and good for the body.

The boys greeted him with a salute.

"Carlo asked me for a dance," Pieck said out of nowhere, smiling and blissfully unaware of Porco's internal weight work. Before he could bitterly reply to that, though, she followed up with, "But I don't want to trip on him, so I politely declined."

"That's too bad," Porco commented too quickly, clearly not bothering to hide the lack of sentiment behind the statement, while the panzer boys obliviously agreed with him. He started shoving a piece of steak into his mouth, munching it to hide the smile forming on his lips.

Their meal continued as Pieck lightly conversed with her boys, answering their questions asking why she wasn't wearing the dress they gifted her, yada yada.

Porco ignored it all and instead entertained the perfect plate of meal in his hand. Not seeing a problem with Pieck overlooking those two broccolis between slices of ham. It wasn't like he added those to earn a compliment from her or anything.

Pieck joined him moments later, the panzer unit seeing themselves off to give her the time to savor her meal. Porco was relieved to see that she was no longer having lapses as compared to two weeks ago. She managed to skillfully wield the fork to aim and took no breaks to marvel at the food before savoring it. No more hand tremors, either.

They were mostly silent aside from a few comments here and there about the party or how their fellow Warriors were doing. Zeke was still dancing around conversing with Marleyan officials, now letting Reiner stick around to familiarize himself with the foreign event. Pieck had been admiring everything. From the venue to the band to the music they played. The white flowers adorning every table and every corner. Porco had never seen her look and sound so dreamy. In the end, she was only a girl who'd find beauty in sweet nothings like this.

"The bride is so beautiful," Pieck commented, sighing. Empty plate set aside, now she was nursing a drink in one hand.

The General's niece had looked nothing like him. She was a gentle soul and one of the very few Marleyans who actually treated the Warriors like human beings. Still, Porco wouldn't dreamily call her beautiful.

Porco watched as the bride shared a dance with her awkward uncle. The guests around them well-meaningly chuckled along. The General must have been roped into it against his will. And the fact that he'd set aside his apparent unwillingness to make sure his niece got whatever she had wanted on her special day, just went to show how much of a kind man the General was than what he was willing to admit.

"Eh, she's okay," Porco didn't hide his disinterest.

Pieck didn't say anything, just smiling up knowingly at him. Like always, as if she was reading an amusing book. What frustrated him was that he could never do the same to her. As her partner for years, he was able to rely on gut feelings when it came to guessing her half the time. The rest of the time, he just felt as if he was navigating through a dense night forest with not so much as a match for illumination.

If she was reading him like he was a children's picture book, he was reading her like she was a tome of plane science. The only thing keeping him going was the occasional instructional images presented throughout the read that he thought were fascinating. Much like how Pieck was an enigma that kept him engaged for whatever reason.

The imbalance could prove to be frustrating sometimes, but not enough to cause them to be out-of-synch, so it shouldn't bother him as much as it did. After all, they were just work partners. As long as it didn't get in the way of their occupational rapport, it shouldn't matter.

Porco once again took the sight of Pieck's eyes, sparkling as they followed the General and his niece, dancing in an awkward but genuine movements. Admiring, longing.

Porco tried his luck.

"Care for a dance?"

It successfully snapped Pieck out of her trance. She turned to look at him to check for any sign of backpedaling. When she saw none, she smiled. "Sure."

Porco didn't know what he was expecting, but her compliance had caught him off guard. "I thought you said you're afraid of tripping?" he tried not to sound like a surprised kitty.

"Not with you," she said, shaking her head. "You'll catch me if I fall, I know you will."

Aaand he was stuck in the dense night forest without illumination again. Why? Why would she go with those choices of words? 

It took Porco a few moments to regain composure but he managed to sound unfazed, "If that's how you're going with it, then it seems like there's not much faith in your own panzer unit. Weren't their fate supposed to be linked with the Cart or something?"

Her lazy smile morphed into a smirk. "I'll let you in on a secret; I didn't say no because I was afraid I'd trip. If I had said yes to Carlo then the other four would want to dance, too. Mommy's not that strong." She pretended to rub her perfectly-fine hip.

Porco could get in on that explanation. "Fair enough."

Once they stepped into the dance floor, ignoring the thankfully discreet looks from the Marleyan guests, Pieck had worn her biggest smile of the night. A tiny feeling of pride bloomed within him for being able to be a factor of whatever caused this.

"I haven't danced in years," Porco admitted. He couldn't remember the exact time he last did. Maybe it was at his cousin's wedding? He was only nine.

"Same," Pieck said, not even remembering if she had ever danced. "Let's just go with the usual."

"And what is that?"

"You catch me when I fall. I advise a strategy so you won't have to. As per usual."

Shrugging, Porco said, "We can do that, yeah."

And so they did. By the time the next song played, they had began dancing. Porco took one hand in his while the other nestled at her waist. They were both simply mimicking those around them without knowing for sure what they were doing. Porco would have thought Pieck would know how to dance, being the sophisticated know-it-all that she was. But perhaps he overestimated the number of her fields of expertise. Like him, she likely had no time for such knowledge they could live just fine without.

It was honestly endearing how clumsy she was. How clumsy they _both_ were. Stepping on each other's toes multiple times and bumping onto other couples and earning glares seemed inferior to the joy they were actually having over this mundane activity. It wasn't the thrill of war, but it was a feeling much slower and peaceful and pleasant. They could hardly name it.

Pieck would giggle every time they made a mistake as if it was the most amusing thing. Sometimes, it was contagious. Most of the time, Porco bit the inside of his cheek to avoid looking like a fool.

But he couldn't deny that it felt liberating to be able to somewhat express himself in this way. Be shameless for once instead of constantly worrying about public image that already couldn't be fixed. Being with Pieck made it easier to forget about those worries. She'd always had a way with making others feel what she wanted them to feel.

Despite their amateurism, Porco noticed that Pieck was nimble with her feet. The imbalance the heels caused didn't seem to bother her as much as he thought they would. In fact, she had been stepping on his feet with ease. There were instances when he wondered if it was on purpose.

At this point, they were probably not following any form of dance but one they invented as they went. Every time Porco felt a tug on his hand and shoulder, he would pull her back in and she would smile when their faces were inches apart. Then she would pull away to perform a risky spin and he would scramble to support her so she wouldn't embarrass herself or them both by failing spectacularly. She never did, as always, she succeeded.

 _As expected of Pieck,_ almost left his mouth. It was hard not to copy the Warchief when Pieck basically shoved so many opportunities to say that, up in his face.

"Not a very good cheer, are we?" said Pieck when she noticed Porco's apparently flat expression as she returned to her original position, huffing lightly from the spontaneous exercise.

Pieck was a planner; she always thought ahead. Prepared alternatives in cases of the unexpected. But somehow she was also one of the most spontaneous people he knew. When she wanted to do something, there was very little that could convince her otherwise. As luck would have it, that trait of hers was what the Marleyans saw as valuable.

Porco wouldn't say he didn't understand their point. He thought it was useful in battle. As well as endearing in person.

"That was really extra," he commented flatly just to push her.

"Nothing wrong with that. You," Pieck put a finger between his eyebrows, "need to loosen up a bit."

Now that's where she, Pieck Finger, was wrong. "Not at the cost of my public image. I can loosen up when there's no eyes around. Especially not Marleyan eyes."

Pieck shrugged, too lazy to argue. "Suit yourself."

The band transitioned to a slow, mellow song. Porco was thankful because all they needed to do was, he believed, swing their hips from side-to-side without any need for flashy performance now. Not that they needed one before, but Pieck was especially thirsty for attention this evening. He hoped she had gotten her fill from those married men and their bitter wives. He wondered if the panzer unit saw, too. Somehow he wished they did.

But man, Pieck didn't use to be like this, did she? She used to be reserved and quiet and humble. Just a sweet girl content with supporting others from the background.

"Remember back then?" Porco asked, just to fill in the silence. And because he was reminded of a certain event he had always wanted to talk with her about.

Pieck seemed amused by how sappy he sounded especially with the song playing in the background. "You'd have to be more specific there, Pocko."

He tried to recall the details. It had been so long ago. "Marcel and the others had just left for Paradis. I got a little upset..."

She raised a brow, teasing. She was always quicker with her memory-jolting when she was fully recovered. "A little?"

He rolled his eyes. "Fine, I got really upset and I..."

"You went and drunk yourself silly," she finished for him, reminiscing with a smile. "Twelve year old Porco, chugging down a bottle of gin by himself. It was something."

"To be fair," Porco began, feeling the need to salvage what little was left of his dignity. "I had a lot of irresponsible adults around me that made that happen, but moving on. Remember what you did?"

"Mm-hm. I went and dragged you out of trouble, of course. Like the reliable big sister that I _still_ am."

Pieck had stayed by his side as he threw up his entire stomach and became sick for the next few days, always squeezing time to come over with hearty meals to make sure he was okay. Continued to include him in conversations when it was hard for him. Helped sort out his anger issues. Provided him a different, healthier outlet for his pent-up anger and frustration. Perhaps that was why his Mother had taken a liking to her. Perhaps that was when he had began to see her as more than a sweet, pretty girl that happened to be training with him.

Porco playfully scoffed, not willing to be honest. "Yeah, sure."

"Wow, rude much?" She didn't sound offended.

So he played along. "Remind me who had to assist you with basically everything for the past two weeks?"

"Fair enough." She shrugged. "I guess we're even."

"Now we're talking."

Pieck laughed.

They moved across the dance floor in slow steps for a while, letting the atmosphere seep into their beings. From the corner of his eyes, Porco noticed Zeke waving at them from the seating area. Reiner beside him wearing a shit-eating grin on his perfectly punchable face. Porco would love to focus on fantasizing about thwacking Reiner later but for some reason, he felt a little bashful to be seen slow-dancing with Pieck now that it was by someone he knew. All of a sudden, every fiber of his being was conscious.

Pieck, on the other hand, hadn't noticed the two. She had her eyes closed and a peaceful smile on her face as they swayed left and right along the rhythm. It made him forget about his bloody toes that were probably blowing steam inside his dress shoes right now. Or even about smacking Reiner across the ocean back to Paradis.

He closed his eyes, too, letting the melody guide them. Forgetting about his fellow Warriors watching him from the sideline. And just letting the moment sink. 

He was here. Right now. With her. And they were happy. 

"I used to like you, you know," he blurted out.

It could be the song. The atmosphere he was drunk on. The feeling of her being so close to him in unfamiliar circumstances. It almost revived what he had felt in his childhood. Maybe something even stronger.

Pieck slowly opened her eyes and looked up at him, her all-knowing smile still persisting. "I know."

It struck Porco as a surprise at first, but after sometime, it no longer was. After all, Pieck knows everything. Why would this be any different?

"Does that mean you don't like me anymore?" Pieck tried, looking up at him with knowing eyes and a lopsided grin.

To be frank, Porco felt played. Very often. He almost hated the way he didn't hate it. "Who doesn't?" he skillfully dodged the question. After spending years as a player in her game of psychological tug-o-war, he'd learned a thing or two. "You have your own fanclub."

Pieck seemed content with that answer. As she smiled and nodded slowly. That was enough for them. For Pieck, who only had less than three years to live. For him, who would only dread for that day to come. It was better for them to leave it here.

"Thank you, Pocko." Pieck sincerely said moments after.

"What for?"

"If not for you," she began fondly, "this evening would have played out differently."

Porco wasn't good at responding to compliments. But sometimes, he would like to learn from Pieck and shamelessly accept them. "You're right. If not for me, your crutch would be your company for the evening instead of this hunk."

Pieck playfully rolled her eyes. "Sure."

"Wow, rude much?" He repeated her own line, grinning.

Pieck chuckled.

And they continued to dance until the music stopped. Their first, and possibly last dance together.

Pieck looked around. Taking in the sight of the once dazzling and bustling hall tuning down as the end of the reception approached. Burning the view into her memories hoping she could look back to it every night before she went to bed. In here, everything that four-year-old Pieck had always seen in her dreams.

* * *

Pieck was far from the youngest among her peers, but it didn't seem to stop them from babying her whenever possible. Her house wasn't the closest from the venue; it was Reiner's. But they had all insisted the wagon stop by hers first because somehow the _ladies first_ slogan applied in this situation. It's almost as if they didn't see her as a Warrior who also fought in a war alongside them and saved their butts multiple times a few weeks ago or something. The disrespect!

Reiner had helped her down and Zeke said goodnight the way he would speak to a little child. Okay, maybe she enjoyed being babied a little.

Porco was mostly silent and looking deep in thought. The mood he had been in since the end of the reception and throughout their ride. She just figured he was tired.

Pieck waved at them, then turned around to slowly trot to her front door, but she heard the wagon door open again before closing, followed by the sound of click-clacking of horse shoes. The wagon was leaving and somebody had gotten off.

"Pieck, wait!" was Porco's voice.

"Pocko?" she asked, turning around. "What is it? Did I leave something behind?"

He looked nervous and somewhat paralyzed in place, as if contemplating a life or death decision on the battlefield. Ah, she really shouldn't be thinking about that right now. "No," he finally choked out, but as soon as he did, he changed his mind. "Yes."

Pieck raised a brow. For once, she could barely decipher what her normally predictable partner was planning to do.

Porco shoved his hand inside his jacket and produced a pink flower that she recognized was from one of the bouquets, then handed it to her. She didn't notice when he'd taken it home. She sure hope he was discreet enough or they'd both get in trouble now that she was an accomplice for accepting the flower albeit with reluctant confusion.

"Uh..." Pieck didn't know what to say so she just stared at the flower in her hand, then at him demanding explanation.

And she didn't get one right away. Instead, he took a bold step forward that caught her off guard, before both his arms circled her body and pulled her shawl off her arms. She was starting to see where this was going but she still couldn't comprehend why it was happening or what her partner was thinking.

Porco spread the blue, semi-translucent shawl before holding it above her head. She blinked, too dumbfounded to speak a word. Just letting everything unfold around her as she for some reason stayed at the center of it all.

Once the shawl rested on top of her head and fell on the sides of her head, for sure ruining her hairdo underneath, she finally took the opportunity to ask the burning question, "What are you doing?"

Porco held his breath at the sight before him. Of Pieck holding a flower, with a veil covering half her face, looking up at him. Despite the confusion written all over her face, she looked stunning. Her front lawn wasn't as bright as the wedding hall, with just the modest illumination from the late night street lights. But she was still dazzling, regardless.

"I..." he realized that whatever he was planning was out the window. Or did he even have a plan at all? "...really don't know where I was going with this."

All he could think about was the sight of Mr. Finger's small, retreating back. Sad and heartbroken. And the small voice of Pieck giving up on her childhood dream.

Pieck blinked at him slowly, mouth agape, looking uncharacteristically flabbergasted in her standard. Porco might have failed whatever it was his three braincells thought they were capable of planning, but if he was being honest with himself, the fact that he caused this already felt like an accomplishment in itself. It wasn't easy to surprise _the_ Pieck Finger, mind you.

And then, it happened.

The sound was soft, but her body language wasn't. With a fist over her lips, she bent over and laughed. Pieck smiles. She laughs. A lot. But, always, she was very calm about it. She doesn't do this... this full-body tremor kind of laugh.

And God so help him, it was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard in his entire life. He almost didn't care that he was born with devil's blood coursing through his veins. He almost didn't care that the entire world had it out for them and would stop at nothing to eradicate his entire race. For now, being here, being with her; it was all that mattered.

"You're impossible," she said once her laughter subsided. He missed it already.

What should he say? What _did_ he want to say? I love you? I don't want you to die? I can't imagine anyone else in your place? In the end, Porco settled with silence.

But this time, to make it up to ten-year-old Porco, he made sure she got her flowers.

And as usual, "Thank you, Pocko."

That was enough.

.

.

.

As a child, Pieck dreamed of white. White dress, white blooms, white cake. 

Now, it's not white or all hers, but she's got it all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So excited I finally, after nearly TWO months, finished my first PokoPiku fic and first AoT fic in... I think five years? Also my first multi-chapter fic since my Dark!Claudia AU! Forgive the rookie mistakes and errors as English isn't my first language! ><
> 
> As usual, I'm never satisfied with how I write the last chapter of my story haha there's always a part of me that said it could be better. So many details I still wanted to add especially in terms of imagery descriptions and Pieck's monologues because this was supposed to be a story about her struggles but halfway turned into the chronicle of a lovestruck Porco thanks to my PokoPiku brainrot over the last few months. I decided being overt with details isn't always a virtue as it might just turn into a boring info dump because I can't find ways to tie some of the information with an interesting current event so with a heavy heart, I cut off a lot of plans and settled with what I posted. But regardless, this was such a joy to write and I hope you guys enjoyed the read as much as I did writing it ^^ thank you for sticking around until the end!
> 
> Also, PokoPiku shippers go and follow me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/Yukifrill) and [Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/yukifrill/) because I draw and talk a lot about them uwu


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